Fun Facts: This comic took forever because today's setting is High Street in high detail. I used to be able to ink these relatively fast, but that was before I started digitally inking. I get cleaner lines and more manipulative power, but at the cost of it taking a long, long time to ink, especially on buildings. And then of course we get carried away with tones...I kinda feel guilty not toning now...and given that cookie, the mouse in my mind feels colors are then kinda obligatory.

The big problem, though: I love drawing accurate buildings (it's tedious at times, but it's always worth it for the finished product), and I'm kinda known for my buildings--even at Comic-Con, the publishers/pros agreed that my buildings were my strongest point--but buildings simply take too long to ink digitally. Something's gotta give...

(Aside: someone once told me that he wanted to be drawn into one of my comics, and indeed I had already written some scripts guest starring our fearless, peerless, and cheerless leader, but alas, there were always other things on the agenda!)

So I had to draw a poster of the YDN eboard on heeling night (after chanting misogynistic slogans on Old Campus, of course), so I made my poster's theme be errbody's college entrance essays, my favorite topic to explore amongst Yalies. So I'm working on this poster (with a slattery of horrifically slaughtered namespellings) and The BHC pops over to search for his name on my poster. Bummed, he goes, "Hey, how come you didn't ask me what I wrote my essay about?" I told him that I thought I was just supposed to include the names from my little get-to-know-the-YDN worksheet they had given me earlier that night--it had left him conspicuously absent, which I figured was to spare him the heelers' pestering while he's trying to get work done--irony!

"Hmm," he ponders. "I dunno." And then he walks off. Just like that! I squint in disbelief, shake my head, and swivel my chair back to the drawing board, straining to regroup mentally from the past 55 seconds of mind-screw.

A few minutes later, I'm still busily drawing when the young Saybrugian commits one of the highest crimes imaginable--to get my attention, he nudges my drawing arm while I'm drawing (and using *INK!* no less)! Thankfully, my 1337 artist skillaz/instincts lifted my hand from the paper just in time to save it from a smudgy tragedy.

"Lincoln!" He beamed proudly. "I just remembered. I wrote about Lincoln!"